


Honey Won't You Let Me In

by Poetry



Category: Leverage
Genre: Eliot Spencer's Cooking, Multi, Romantic Fluff, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 20:24:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10816068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poetry/pseuds/Poetry
Summary: Eliot already knows they're more than a team. Toby helps him figure out what he should do about that.





	Honey Won't You Let Me In

Eliot didn’t have a moment of revelation when he knew he was in over his head. It was a slow slide, a million compromises with himself. Just this one time, I’ll stay over at Hardison’s apartment and talk to him all night about trying to do the right thing as a dumb kid on his first tour of duty. Just this once, I’ll let Parker climb in through my window and cook her breakfast when she asks me to. I’ll let my guard down and hug Hardison, but never again. And each time, the compromises got bigger, and he never even noticed.

There wasn’t a moment of revelation. What happened was that Eliot called up Toby and told him about his plans to expand and update the brewpub, and talked about how much Hardison and Parker would like how it was going to look a couple of years down the line.

“I can hear you smiling right over the phone,” Toby said. “Which one of them are you in love with, son, and what are you going to do about it?”

Eliot didn’t even need to think about that first question. He’d known the answer for years. But he’d never really thought about the second. What _was_  he going to do about it? “What would you do?” Eliot said, hoping to distract him with a story from Toby’s sweet courtship of his wife.

“What do you think I’d do?” Toby said. “Cook a dinner they’ll never forget.”

Eliot had cooked dinner for Hardison and Parker more times than he cared to count. But it was another thing to make a statement with a dinner. He’d taught Parker about that. 

He made the food sweet, because they liked that, and this wasn’t a meal for challenging their tastes. He had to show he accepted them. So he made melon gazpacho, and ham with a brown sugar glaze, and collards to remind Hardison of his Nana, and cupcakes topped with Fruit Loops for Parker. He set up the table with a whole side free for Parker so she could hang from rigging on the ceiling while she ate if she liked, and he put out candles and flowers on the table, because Parker wasn’t a romantic but Hardison was, right down to his bones.

Eliot put “Dinner at Eliot’s” on their shared calendar app thing, like he’d done before. He paused before hitting submit, then, feeling like a teenager with a crush, he added a heart emoji to the event name. Not because he thought emojis were anything but silly, mind you, but Hardison and Parker would like it. He hit submit.

A minute later, his phone pinged, and then again. _Accept. Accept._

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? He kept asking more and more, from himself and from them, and somehow they always answered, _accept. Accept. Accept._


End file.
